Even a blind pig will find an acorn

I was up at 3:30 a.m. and on the road by 4:30, Dec. 18, on my way to Ocean City, Md., to board the Angler head boat by 5:30. I should have known it was going to be a good day, because I never had to stop for a red light until I got to 8th Street in Ocean City.

Once I parked the truck and walked down Talbot Street to the dock, I noticed everyone was lined up at the end of the pier by the boat and not at the shack where we usually received our tickets and boarding numbers. For whatever reason, the mate was calling out our names instead of numbers in the sequence of our boarding. I was around five or six, and was able to secure a spot on the stern and a place at one of the two tables in the cabin. My good luck continued.

We got underway at 6 a.m. and the sea that greeted us beyond the inlet was not exactly calm, but certainly comfortable. Many of my fellow anglers fell asleep, but I am much too excited to sleep on the way out to the fishing grounds. At 7 a.m., I broke out my usual fishing breakfast of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and no-sugar pie washed down with a diabetic-friendly Boost Glucose Control shake.

Around 8:30, we arrived at our destination, anchored up and began to fish. Mate Stephen Anderson had tied one of the boat’s bottom rigs to my line and set a small container of cut-up clam next to my spot on the stern. Mate Mike Dashiell helped me get from the cabin to the stern and get ready for the first drop.

I must take a bit of time to say how great these two gentlemen were not only to me, but also to everyone on board. Get a tangle? They were right there to clear out the mess. Bait running low? They would fill the container right back up. Have bad knees and need help getting around? Big Mike would help you move from place to place.

Once the word went out to drop lines, I had hits as soon as my rig hit bottom. Those first few drops did produce a few keepers for me, but as usual, from there on I caught too many just-short sea bass while those around me were we catching keepers.

The stern was littered with coolers, so mine was just a row or two back. On the rare occasion when I caught a fish that was over 13 inches, I would drop it on the deck, and the next time a mate came bay he would pick it up, measure the fish, and put it in my cooler.

At one point I thought I was hung up on the bottom. When I finally got the thing to move, I realized I had a big fish. Mike was standing next to me and when the fish came in sight, he grabbed the line, hauled it over the rail and carried it to my cooler.

Around noon, the word went out that the boat was getting close to a limit. Mike said I had 13 fish in my cooler, which was more than I thought I had, but those occasional keepers do add up. We kept fishing, and a kind gentleman next to me caught two keepers in a row and I had my limit.

As we headed in, the folks who had big sea bass lined up to participate in the weigh-in for the pool. I was already in the cabin, so it took me some time to get back out to my cooler to get my big fish and get in line.

The process uses a balance bar with hooks on each end. Two fish are placed on each end of the bar and the heaviest will pull the bar down. One fish had been pulling down the bar for several weigh-ins, and mine was the last challenger. Much to my surprise and delight, my fish pulled down the bar and I won the pool.

For the very first time in my long and glorious fishing career, I won a pool, and I have entered every pool on every boat that had one.

I remember my grandfather fishing with five friends from work at American Viscose in Marcus Hook with Capt. Smith out of Slaughter Beach. Their pool cost 25 cents to enter. This was a $20 pool. I tipped each mate $20 and put the rest in my pocket.

I recall reading somewhere that sooner or later, even a blind pig will find an acorn. Well, on Dec. 18, this blind pig finally found his.